


Fever, Faith

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: Endings to Bring Closure [5]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: Violet has barely managed to doze off when a knock on the door wakes her. She rubs at her eyes, then tries to sit up, leaning against a pile of pillows.“Come in,” she calls.Well, at worst she will just pray with Invar, which should help in its own right, and… Violet loses the trail of thoughts and blinks, because the man standing at the door is definitely not Invar.





	Fever, Faith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rannadylin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rannadylin/gifts).



Violet stares down at her hands in absolute horror… And then she sneezes and blows her nose into the embroidered handkerchief anyway. They ran out of the plain ones a while ago, and Eidis sent them all for a washing, so there is no other choice, really… But Vi still feels bad about treating her friend’s work so awfully.

“Hopefully we won’t get to yours, too,” Eidis says with a small, comforting smile.

Violet nods at her, trying not to look miserable. But honestly, she is so tired… And slightly irritated at having to stay in bed because of a really bad cold, and having caught that cold in the first place, and while visiting her friend, of all possible moments. That is too much even for Eothasian patience, and even having two purring cats as bed-warmers does not make things better.

That was to be expected at some point, though. They should have waited until the spring. But the children really wanted to see the snow again – they all did – and since Anselm knew how much she missed her friend, it was not difficult to persuade her.

Violet sighs. Having four very lively children to take care of, she sometimes does not have time to care for herself properly, or to remember things like putting on an additional fur cloak when her kids managed to sneak out to the rookery with the obvious plan of trying out wurm racing, while Anselm was busy arguing – ah, _discussing_ things with Adhán. Now Anselm can discuss that mistake with a book, being grounded with the kids in the library, after a suitable amount of ear-pulling.

Violet sneezes again; Eidis manages to take the teacup away in the last moment and waits patiently, and then hands over the tea and a clean handkerchief.

“Do you want more books?” Eidis asks with concern.

“I’ll try to get some sleep.” Violet sniffs as hot steam rising from the teacup hits her nose. “Mhm, smells good. Or at least I think so.”

“Tegwen’s herbal brew. I’ll get you some more.” Eidis frowns a little, as if she has just realized something. “Maybe some healing magic could help?”

Violet pricks her ears. “I’m a priest, remember?” she says with a tired smile. “Besides, it would really feel like wasting magic, with something so trivial…”

“It’s my friend’s health you’re talking about!” Eidis protests, smiling back. In the firelight, her white hair seems to glow, a soft halo around her head. “And you know that a sick healer…”

“…isn’t very effective. I’ve noticed.” Violet sniffs again. “All right, let’s try healing spells, then.” She giggled, which quickly turned into coughing. “I’m afraid Anselm isn’t going to manage babysitting alone for much longer.”

* * *

 

Violet has barely managed to doze off when a knock on the door wakes her. She rubs at her eyes, then tries to sit up, leaning against a pile of pillows.

“Come in,” she calls.

Well, at worst she will just pray with Invar, which should help in its own right, and… Violet loses the trail of thoughts and blinks, because the man standing at the door is definitely not Invar.

“Adhán?”

“Eidis said you need a healer.” He waits on the threshold.

“You’re a healer?” Violet’s eyebrows arch. “I didn’t know ciphers could do that.”

“I could give you a long lecture on how everything is tied to the soul essence, and how in theory a cipher should be able to heal,” he replies, entering the room and sitting on a chair standing beside the bed. “And a few case studies that proved it does not work like that and said connection is not so simple. But I’m sure your husband would be delighted to explain it all.”

Violet frowns in disapproval. “You know very well that he never received formal training,” she reproaches. “My patience is somewhat limited today, so if you’re going to be mean, please just leave.”

Adhán sighs. “Apologies. That was uncalled for.”

“Haven’t you grown bored with this phrase? I’m sure you have to use it a lot.”

He looks at her face for a moment, and then suddenly laughs. “Not bad, for an Eothasian.”

Violet smiles. “Just wait until I get better.”

“All right.” He leans in a little, all serious now. “Your hand, please.”

She lightly touches his palm. It is not really necessary, but certainly less awkward than if he put his hands on her head, and she knows from experience that physical touch makes it easier to focus.

For a moment, neither speaks. Violet watches the faint bluish light, enveloping her hand, then climbing up her arm, tiny sparks growing brighter the further they travelled.

“You’re a priest?” she asks, curious.

“I used to be.” Adhán does not even open his eyes.

“Used to? Then how it is you can still heal?”

He gives her a strange look, then shook his head. “So inquisitive.”

Violet is not certain whether she likes the sound of that word. But she does not feel like arguing with him. “Well, call it professional interest.”

“No, I’m not,” he replies after a while, when she already gave up on getting an answer out of him. “Just…” A corner of his lips curls up slightly. “Call me a… devout believer.”

He is not an Eothasian, Violet is sure of that. He does not really fit any other gods either, having something that could be linked to each of them – as most kith, she supposes. But that would not be enough for healing magic. For that, one needs strong, steadfast faith, focused on… Oh.

Violet’s eyes widen in shock. “Eidis?” she whispers. “You mean Eidis?”

Adhán lets go of her hand, his face once more kindly indifferent and inscrutable. “That, my dear, is a very personal question, don’t you think?”

Violet blinks, recalling an image from earlier. The glow on Eidis’ hair. Was it more than just firelight? To think of that, it had kind of looked like a…

“But… A Dawnstar?” she croaks, her words barely audible.

Adhán shakes his head. “No. Not yet,” he corrects immediately. “But she could do that to herself, if we’re not cautious. She would let that happen.” He gets up, straightening his robe. “Eothasians,” he says in exasperation. But there is bitterness deep down in his voice.

“You worry about her,” Violet realizes.

Oh, of course he does; he loves Eidis, after all. But this is different. It is not the fear of the unknown – he is not afraid at all. He is… resentful towards the very idea. As if he knew what that involved.

“Who are you?” she asks, her fur ruffling.

Adhán turns towards the light, and the strange feeling is gone, and again he looks like an ordinary man. “A penitent paying his debt, you could say.” He flashes her a smile. “That should be an acceptable name for your Eothasian mind, I imagine?” With that, he opens the door and steps out of the room.

“You’re welcome!” Violet calls after him. “And thank you for healing.”

He glances at her over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll try to stop her,” she explains with a sigh, aware that waiting for him to speak would be futile.

Something in his face changes, softens. Respect. More than that; reverence. “You can’t,” he says quietly, with a strange smile that seems both fond and broken. “Believe me. I tried.”

Suddenly her eyelids feel very heavy; Violet immediately recognizes a cipher trick. But before she can scold him, Adhán walks out of the room, and she is fast asleep as soon as the door closes behind him.


End file.
